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11/26/2015

Important
things first, are these sheets silk or cotton? Oh
honey, I’m so over the silk. You slip
and slide on them. One good thrust and you’re on the damn floor. I’m all about
comfort. Sadly, it’s all soft cotton flannel sheets for me!

What
are you wearing? Now? Cotton sweats. Grey. Comfort,
remember? Not even my bra and panties match, but at least I’m wearing them! My
black fluffy slippers are sitting by the bed just waiting to keep my feet warm.

What
are we snacking on in bed while we read tonight? I just bought some rosemary
ham, hard salami, and dill Havarti with olive oil crackers. A handful of black,
seedless grapes. And a few black olives. To drink, I sustain myself with a
tumbler of Kahlua and half-n-half cream, over ice, shaken to a frothy completion.
With a bendy straw. Perfection!

If
I open this nightstand drawer, what will I find? More food. That’s my
chocolate stash. It’s absolutely necessary to keep me going all night. Reading, honey. Get your mind outta the
gutter! I’m not that kind of girl. Well, not any more. I have eschewed those
ways. *sniff*

Do
you roll up in the blankets like a burrito, or kick the covers off during the
night? Well,
since I sleep with a bear, it gets hot as hell under those blankets. Yeah, he’s
a large, grey bear and he generates enough heat to melt the ice caps. (In all
the ways you’re thinking) So most nights, I’m kicking the blankets off my feet.
We keep the temp set low and frosty to counteract all the heat we create. Under
the covers. Naturally.

Can
I put my cold feet on your calves to warm them up? Not
without drawing back nubs, honey. Besides, that’s my trick! It’s one of the
things my bear is there for – we keep each other warm in the winter and shaded
in the summer. And no, you can not
know all the other things! Cheeky monkey!

What
are we reading? Tonight, I’m reading the second book of
the In The Company of Men series, Jackson’s Pride.Here’s a little scene
between Will, Jackson’s lover, and Will’s former lover Hugh and his current
lover, Jon. Hugh and Jackson are half-brothers, so yeah it’s complicated.

“I thought you might be lonely, so I brought a friend.” Hugh
pushed his way into the room. With a flourish, he pulled a young man from
behind him.

As Will shut the door, he judged Hugh’s lover at no more than
eighteen, perhaps less. Small, lithe, with white blond hair and pale blue eyes,
he was everything Hugh found exciting.

“Your taste in lovers hasn’t changed, I see. Still prefer
them young and pretty.” Will reached out, cupped the man’s chin, and raised it
to look into his eyes.

Hugh waited for Will’s approval, it seemed. How odd that Hugh
should seek the approval of a man he had once used and tossed away as
worthless. No doubt the same fate would await this young fellow. Pity; he was
indeed pretty.

“And you, Will? Still prefer your men big and strong?” Hugh
grinned.

Will’s eyes flicked to Hugh. “I wasn’t aware I had a
preference. Opportunity and willingness are
usually enough for me.” Will still held the delicate, pointed chin. Such full
red lips and sad pale eyes. Will searched deeper into them. No, not sad.
Frightened.

“He’s sweet, I promise you. Care for a taste?” Hugh’s hands
rested on his lover’s slim shoulders, holding him in place between them.

“What is your name?” Will asked, since Hugh had not formally
introduced him. That rudeness was so like Hugh, to treat his lover as if he
were naught but a toy.

“Jon,” he answered with a quick lick of his lips and a flash
of a shy smile.

“Well, Jon. May I kiss you welcome?”

Jon’s eyes widened. “Aye, m’lord,” he whispered.

Will locked eyes with Hugh, not Jon, as he leaned down.
Hugh’s dark eyes widened. Will saw the arousal in them. As his lips brushed
Jon’s, Will closed his eyes. Soft as a feather pillow, Jon’s full lips
cushioned his mouth.

Pressed between the two older men, Jon moaned and leaned into
the kiss, but was held back by Hugh’s hands. Will’s tongue slipped inside and
met Jon’s as Will tasted him. Jon might have been sweet, but it was ashes to
Will. Breaking the kiss, Will straightened and looked into Hugh’s eyes.

“He trembles at your touch, William,” Hugh whispered.

“Does that surprise you? I have made many men tremble.”

Hugh’s eyebrow rose. “You have learned much these last ten
years.”

“Twelve years.” Will stepped back.

“Take him if you want him.” Hugh’s hands released Jon.

“Have you never learned, Hugh?” Will shook his head. “Lovers
are not toys to be played with or passed amongst your friends at whim.”

“Don’t spout morals at me, William. I can see your desire for
Jon.”

“And I can see yours.” Will had to think fast. He was getting
in too deep. He’d had no plans to let this play go any further, but he wanted
to gain the upper hand with Hugh. Would taking Jon betray Jackson,
if only to learn Jackson’s fate or help find
him? There had to be another way.

“My tastes have changed.” Will shrugged, strode to the chair,
and sat. He leaned back, spread his legs wide, and placed his hands on his
thighs. “I won’t take him, but I will watch you.”

Looking into Jon’s eyes, Will saw doubt. He had no wish to
harm the young man. After all, he’d been in the same position once. But Will
had refused to be a toy or to share Hugh with another. Jon had no such
strength, it seemed. Yet, there was something about the young man that gave
Will pause.

“Remove his shirt and thumb his nipples,” Will ordered.

Hugh’s lips parted as if to protest, then closed. Standing
behind Jon, Hugh’s hands reached around, grabbed the edge of Jon’s shirt, and
pulled it over his head. Jon’s chest was pale and hairless, his nipples pink as
the bud of a new rose, his stomach lean.

Altogether a tempting sight. Hugh’s arms wrapped around Jon’s
chest, hands splayed, fingers caressed, until his thumbs found their targets.
Jon sighed as his buds became hard points under Hugh’s touch.

“Kiss his shoulders.” Will spread his fingers and pressed his
hand into his thigh to keep it from fisting. It aroused him to have such
control over the lovers. He didn’t want to let it show, but if this went on for
long, arousal would be hard to deny.

Hugh’s head fell forward, his eyes locked on Will as his
black hair cascaded over Jon’s pale skin. Those two bodies were a beautiful and
terrible contrast. Jon’s small, delicate frame and Hugh’s larger powerful body.
Jon’s pale skin and eyes, and Hugh’s dark hair and eyes. Jon’s soft
vulnerability and Hugh’s harsh ruthlessness.

Jon’s head fell to the side as Hugh’s lips made their way
from shoulder to neck, over Jon’s throat to end at his earlobe. Hugh’s fingers
continued to work Jon’s nipples.

“He’s beautiful, Hugh. Tell him.”

Hugh’s dark eyes still held Will’s. “You’re right. He is
beautiful and he tempts me each time I see him.” His tongue laved Jon’s cheek.

“Don’t tell me, I see his beauty. Tell him.”

Hugh paused. “You are so beautiful, Jon,” he whispered.

Jon’s eyes shuttered. Will wondered how often Jon had heard
those words from Hugh. He’d hear more, if Will had anything to do with it.

“Move your hands to his belly, but don’t touch his cock.”

Hugh’s hands slid lower, his fingers passing just under Jon’s
waistband. Jon’s cock was at full stand, a long, slender lump beneath the loose
woolen breeches he wore.

Even though Will couldn’t see Hugh’s rod, hidden by Jon, it
had to be straining by now. His was. Will longed to stroke himself. This game
had taken him prisoner also. He took a deep breath in a vain attempt to control
himself.

“Untie his laces. Slowly.”

Hugh’s hands found the strings and began working them as his
eyes locked with Will’s. Damn, the intensity of Hugh’s stare tore through Will,
puckering his nipples and his ass. Determined not to fall into Hugh’s trap,
Will shot back a look that he hoped smoldered.

By the parting of Hugh’s lips, Will knew he’d hit his mark.

Jon’s pants fell to the floor. Hugh pushed down the cotton
trews Jon wore and freed his rod. Jutting upward, it was as pale and pretty as
Jon was. Slender, yet long, its shaft was only a few shades darker than Jon’s
skin, but its full head blushed with blood. Desire leapt in Will. Jon’s rod
looked truly delicious, as if it were some candied treat he wanted to taste.

“His rod is as pretty as he is, is it not?”

“Beautiful. And so sweet tasting.” Hugh ran his tongue around
his lips, tempting Will. To give in would be utter madness. But Will had not
lost his reason. Always, in the back of his mind, Jackson
stood waiting.

Will spread his knees farther apart, displaying proof of his
own endowment and let his hand slide upward to rest on the crease where his
thigh met his loins. He rubbed his thumb over the bulge.

Jon stared at Will, his eyes wide, his pupils large and dark.
As the lovers watched, Will ran his tongue over his bottom lip. There was no
mistaking Hugh’s widening eyes or Jon’s shuddering sigh.

The
Mercenary’s Tale – Drake is a mercenary for hire. He
values little other than his sword and his skill. Fighting his attraction to
the young men he trains, he refuses to take any on. When Ansel walks into his
life, Drake breaks all his rules.
But life for mercenaries is hard, brutal and deadly.
Can Drake take a chance on finding the love he’s denied himself for so long? Can
he have a second chance?

Jackson’s
Pride - Jackson has been called to attend his father, Lord
Baymore. The man has never claimed Jackson as his son and Jackson believes this
might be his father’s intent. He’s left the Duke of Marden’s employ to discover
his destiny—to remain a nameless bastard or to claim his father’s name.When
Jackson stumbles across a man, stripped, beaten, and left in a field to die a
slow death, Jackson rescues the man. After all, he’s guilty of the same
thing—wanting a man.
Will Holcombe gambled and lost. His meeting with a young, willing man went
horribly wrong, and now he must pay for it with his life.
Until a man walks up to him in a frozen field and cuts him down.
Jackson is like no one Will has ever met before—a man strong enough to stand
with him, perhaps forever.But
Jackson’s on a mission. Will his pride blind him to what his life could be if
he chose Will and not his father?Or
will his pride lead him to a fate worse than death?

Baymore’s
Heir
- Duke Jackson of Baymore finally has all he’s ever wanted—his name, a title,
and the man he loves by his side. Lord Will Holcombe couldn’t be happier. He’s
Jackson’s lover, best friend, and manages all of Jackson’s affairs. For two
years, their life together, although deadly if anyone knew of their forbidden
love, has been perfect.
Until Jackson the day when decides the one thing he needs is an heir.
And the one person to find him a wife is Will.

Silent
Lodge – Drake and Logan are worried about their friend and
captain of the guard, Peter. After the death in childbirth of Peter’s wife,
he’s a changed man. Unfocused, lonely, and devastated, Peter needs a new
challenge, instead of going through the motions of living.

Logan sends Peter on a mission – to discover Duke
Weathersby’s plans for invasion. Logan’s father has a small hunting lodge near
the border of their lands, and it has a caretaker. Peter sets off alone, to
make camp at the lodge and do some scouting.

But what he finds at the lodge just may be his future.
Arvel is a fascinating young man. Red haired, deaf and mute from a fever as a
child, he’s been living in the lodge and caring for it for years. It’s a safe
haven for him. But he’s not alone. He has a protector, Gareth.

When Gareth, Arvel and Peter are together, sparks fly.
Arvel belongs to Gareth, but he wants Peter too. Can Peter join their small
family? And if he does, will he always be the third to their couple?

His
Duke’s Gift – In this Yuletide story, Duke Logan is
preparing the keep for the holiday. Twelve nights of feasting and gift giving
to those in his favor. Gifts must be made or bought. Once mercenary Drake
struggles to think of just the right gift for his love and liege, and for their
sons.

Something isn’t right. A stranger has arrived at the
keep and Logan refuses to let Drake into his bedroom at night. Angry and
frustrated, Drake fears Logan has lost his love for the mercenary.

When the Twelfth night arrives, and Drake has received
no gift, he begins to think he might need to take his son and leave what has
become his home.

Lynn Lorenz is an
award-winning and best-selling author of over 30 gay romances. She lives in
Texas, where she’s a fan of all things Texan, like Longhorns, big hair, and
cowboys in tight jeans. She’s never met a comma she didn’t like, and enjoys
editing and brainstorming with other writers. Lynn spends most of her time
writing about hot sex with even hotter heroes, plot twists, werewolves, and
medieval swashbucklers. She’s currently at work on her latest book, making
herself giggle and blush, and avoiding all the housework.

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Be Yourself

To be nobody but yourself in a world which is doing its best, night and day, to make you everybody else means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight; and never stop fighting. ~e.e. cummings, 1955